


The Gargoyle

by Chilassa



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Filbrick Pines' Bad Parenting, Gaslighting (hinted at), Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Misogyny, NOT a Monsterfalls AU, Stan is a Gargoyle, Stangst, Violence Against A Baby Gargoyle, but everyone else is the same
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26601898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chilassa/pseuds/Chilassa
Summary: Filbrick angers a witch, gets cursed and gains two sons. One is special and has twelve fingers. The other is a gargoyle.orStanley Pines was never supposed to exist and yet he keeps on living in a body of made of rock, that he doesn't quite understand, and with a soft heart, that he gave away too soon. All he ever wanted was to stay close to his brother and protect him from all the evil in the world, but with Ford pushing him away and freely inviting trouble into his home, it might just be too much for Stan to handle. Stone can be so brittle sometimes.[Currently on hiatus while I'm MIA in other fandoms. I shall return eventually ^^ ]
Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Sherman "Shermie" Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 34
Kudos: 53





	1. Filbrick Gets Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warning:  
> The twins' birth in this chapter could be seen as pretty traumatic from their mother's perspective, but it's mostly only mentioned in passing.  
> This chapter is entirely out of Filbricks perspective and there's no way he would bother thinking about it in detail. ...He was a lot of fun to write.😅
> 
> Enjoy!

“You will regret this, Filbrick Pines! I curse you!”, the old woman shrieks, droplets of spit hitting Filbrick’s face. He was not impressed.  
  
“No money, no deal. Now let go of my ware and scram or I’ll shove your curse up your ass!”

The woman stills and puts the medallion back on the counter, her hand still hovering over the ancient family heirloom she pawned off a week ago. 

Filbrick had agreed not to sell it for a week, but never not to more than triple the rebuy price. He’s running a business here and if the medallion was that important to the old crone, she shouldn’t have sold it away in the first place. If she won’t buy her ugly piece of garbage back, he can always easily find some other sucker who’d pay an outrageous price for it.  
  
“Be cursed, Filbrick Pines!”, she repeats throwing her hands up towards the ceiling and lets go of the heirloom. “This greed you showed me today will be your downfall.”  
  
Filbrick scoffs. What a load of bullcrap.  
  
“My _greed_ makes me nothing but money. And you’re starting to get on my nerves, lady. I don’t make a habit out of hurting crazy old women, but I can make an exception for you. Don’t test me.”  
  
The crone backs away towards the door, but stops herself one more time.  
  
“You’re a bad man, Filbrick Pines and I pity your family. I promise, you won’t make any money from our exchange. The reminder of your greed however, will stick with you forever. And just one word of advice before I leave. You better check up on your wife soon. Giving birth will be hard on her.”  
  
With her warnings given, she leaves and Filbrick has to roll his eyes. He’s not a superstitious man and if she thinks she can scare him with empty threats and magical knowledge of his wife's pregnancy she’s wrong. Besides, the baby isn’t due for another month or so.  
  
He leans back into his chair and opens today’s newspaper.  
  
Curses, yeah. Right.

  
***

Two hours later, Filbrick is startled by the pained and panicked screams of his wife and soon enough finds himself in front of the hospital’s delivery room waiting for the birth of his child.  
  
He can already feel a headache coming and his ears are still ringing from Caryn’s wailing.

_“Something is wrong, Filbrick. Something is wrong. My stomach. It’s too big! My poor baby!”_

Sure, her belly looked somewhat bigger than it did this morning, but he usually didn’t pay much attention to these kinds of female issues anyway. He knows women usually overreact and get hysterical during pregnancy and childbirth, so he shouldn’t be too hard on his wife, but he still wishes Caryn would’ve at least tried to do it more quietly.  
  
If they have another child he’ll make sure to have some earplugs ready or to just stay home entirely. Giving birth is a woman’s job after all and he’s not needed here. He shouldn't have promised Caryn to come to accompany and stay with her at the hospital until their child is born.  
  
He had to close his shop early today and just thinking of all the money he’s missing out on right now puts him in a bad mood. Filbrick sighs. Honestly, the things he does for his wife.  
  
After at least half a day waiting in the hospital and glaring atl the nurses and doctors that cross his view, he is finally shown his newborn child. A strong healthy son.  
  
The nurse handing him the baby looks troubled and attempts to say something, but Filbrick ignores her in favour of his child, who involuntarily closes his small hand around his finger. For a moment Filbrick is utterly stunned and can’t quite believe what he is seeing. Six fingers on both hands. Two more than expected. Filbrick can’t help himself and gives the small thing in his arms one of his rare smiles. This one is special.  
  
“Stan Filbrick Pines”, he says in a low voice. “You will make us a fortune, won't you?”  
  
The baby stays quiet.  
  
Eventually Filbrick takes his eyes off the baby and demands to see his wife. He assumes that by now all of the ‘birth stuff’ should’ve been taken care of and Caryn must be anxious to spend more time with their child as well. Otherwise she might just fall into hysterics again, he muses, but most of his prior irritation is already gone, now, that the birthing business is finally over and done.  
  
“Ah, I’m sorry, Sir”, the nurse says somewhat breathlessly. “Your wife is still in labor. It looks like she’s giving birth to twins.”  
  
“Twins? We weren’t told about any twins. Shouldn’t you have figured that one out sooner?”  
  
Filbrick asks, anger seeping through his voice. They went through a lot of trouble and money to have the pregnancy go smoothly and now he’s being suddenly told that they’ll be burdened with another and entirely unplanned mouth to feed.  
  
The nurse turns red and opens her mouth to apologize or maybe to argue, but is stopped in her tracks by the baby’s sudden cries. Filbrick, not knowing what to do with the screaming and squirming baby in his arms, shoves him back into the nurse’s arms, likely a bit rougher than he should, and sits back down with crossed arms.  
  
“Make him stop crying and inform me when my wife is finished.” He orders glaring at the nurse, who leaves without another word to take care of his son.

***

Not half an hour later and nurses start running in and out of the delivery room. New doctors arrive and he can hear Caryn screaming and crying asking what is wrong with her baby. As long as one of the twins is fine Filbrick doesn’t really see the point in worrying about it, but when the noise and commotion doesn’t stop he decides it’s enough nonsense for a day and grabs the next person running out of the delivery room by the arm demanding to know what is going on.

"It's the devil! The devil! He has come for us all!" She screams and struggles out of his grip running for her life, as if the devil was indeed behind her.

This day is getting worse and worse. First they didn't tell him that Caryn was carrying twins until it was too late and now they apparently let crazy people work in the hospital. Once this is all over the hospital is getting sued.

Having decided on a lawsuit, he shoves the door to the delivery room open, ready to take his wife and leave. Women have given birth by themselves long before the invention of modern medicine. How hard could it be to push out another baby?

All of his plans however are forgotten as soon his eyes fall onto the big piece of rock lying between his wife's legs, who seems to have passed out.

"What the hell?!"

That thing shouldn't be moving. Breathing. Some stony outlines of what could be a crude carving of a baby's face and two small horns protruding from the thing's head can be seen from where Filbrick is standing. The thing fumbles around aimlessly and two grotesk wings spread out and encase the monstrous body like a protective cocoon of some sort.

"What the hell is that thing?"

The remaining hospital staff, standing a few feet away from the rockthing, looks at each other in silent stupor, fearful of whatever was given birth here. Even Filbrick can't deny that whatever that thing is, it isn’t natural. He has no explanation for it. Except, except fuck. The curse!

He huffs. That bitch actually did curse him over her lack of money. If he ever gets his hands on her, she will be done for.

"P-please, just take your family and t-that that thing and leave. Whatever deal you've done with the devil we want no part in it." 

Tsk, devil his ass. That old witch won't scare him with some lump of moving rock. Now that he knows where this whole disaster started he can fix it and the first step will be to get rid of that winged rockthing.

"Take care of my wife and son. I'll be back later and they better be ready to leave by then!" Filbrick demands and picks the rock up by its feet, which he immediately regrets as the rock starts wailing in a rough high pitched voice, a mockery of a human child's first cries for its mother.

Filbrick resigns himself to more noise and headaches and makes his way out of the hospital ignoring the gasps and stares of patients and other hospital staff. Better get this over with quick. He throws the stone onto the backseat of his car and drives off looking for a place to dump the monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://shanklin.tumblr.com/)


	2. Enter Shermie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shermie introduces himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I would go with the whole "Shermie was the baby in the flashback"-thing, but Shermie disagreed and I'm weak for older brothers.
> 
> ...writing "Stan" instead of "Ford" feels so wrong. Let's hope Ford gets his proper name soon.

“So, what do you think, Doctor Thunderman?”  
  
Shermie stretches his arm towards the yellow ceiling lights and admires the freshly formed clay figure standing proudly on the coffee table above him. He’s lying upside down on the couch, most of his upper body already on the floor and can’t be bothered to get up.  
  
“How long do people typically wait until they call the police, when their parents disappear under mysterious circumstances?”, he asks the figure.  
  
“I am certain your parents are fine, young Sherman. They are simply tending to some adult business like doing taxes or buying curtains. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Shermie tries changing his voice to sound more like a superhero and fails miserably. He lets out a frustrated scream and kicks the couch knocking over a pillow. This is stupid. Here he is, alone at home for the first time in forever and all he can do is worry about Ma. His dad doesn’t care, but his mom always leaves him a note with an outrageous lie behind before she goes out . And lie or no lie, at least Shermie always knows she’s safe and will return soon.

Today however, all Shermie was left with is an empty house, a closed up shop and a strange wet puddle on the floor. He briefly considered leaving the puddle for the police as evidence in case some evil aquatic sea creature had kidnapped his parents, but he quickly dispelled that thought. Dad would have his head, if he left it there and let it ruin the floor.

The unmistakable rattle of his father’s car echoes through the night and Shermie jumps up, panicked. Actually Dad would have his head for a lot of things right about now, namely the state of the living room and the fact that he should’ve gone to bed hours ago.  
  
_Not good, not good, not good._

With a big swoop Shermie picks up as many craft supplies as he can from the coffee table and runs into his room, hiding them in a box under his bed. If his dad finds out he still plays around with such childish things, he’s done for and so are his supplies.

On his second run he carefully picks up his Doctor Thunderman figure, mindful not to disturb the wet clay. He rarely has the time or the money to build something like this and he doesn’t want his efforts to go to waste.  
  
The car quiets down. He has to hurry!  
  
Shermie takes his sleeves and wipes the table clean as best as he can, hoping his father won’t look too closely at it tonight. And then he’ll just have to sneak out in the morning and clean it properly. With some luck no one will ever know.  
  
He hears footsteps. There’s no more time left. 

Shermie throws one last pillow back on the couch, turns the lights off, and tiptoes into his bed.

The front door creaks open and the lights turn on. His parents start muttering, but Shermie can’t make out anything. He probably shouldn’t risk it, but his curiosity wins and he sneaks up to the door to eavesdrop on his parents. He’s pretty sure his father wouldn’t think of checking on him anyway, so he’s very likely safe from being discovered.  
  
Much to his chagrin however, as soon as he reaches the door his ears are met with nothing but silence.

Then, suddenly, a cry. Shrill and high pitched and undeniable coming from a baby. Shermie is so surprised, he jumps up and promptly hits his head on the doorknob, adding his own cries to the baby’s. No point in hiding anymore.  
  
Shermie opens the door sheepishly and is met with his father’s disapproving stare. He gulps.  
  
“Err, welcome home?”  
  
To his astonishment his dad just grunts displeased and leaves for the bedroom muttering something about buying earplugs. Today must be his lucky day! Grinning, Shermie scans the room for his mom and finds her leaning back in her armchair with a small noisy bundle in her arms. She looks pale and exhausted, but waves him over with a smile.  
  
“Come here, Sweety, and say hello to your little brother.”  
  
Shermie gives Ma a quick hug and eyes the baby.  
  
“Woah, he’s so ugly!”  
  
The words slip out of his mouth before he can think them over, but he stands by them. If Shermie didn’t know better, he’d even say, his parents brought home some weird mutated worm with the face of a small grandpa. Ugly, but still strangely lovable.  
  
His mother chuckles and caresses the baby’s face gently.

“He is, isn’t he? The ugliest baby in the whole of New Jersey! But you know what they say, the uglier the baby, the cuter the child.”  
  
Shermie eyes his mom sceptically.  
  
“Noone says that.”  
  
“Well I do.” Ma replies and pinches his cheeks. “And look how cute you turned out to be in the end.”  
  
“Ouch.” Shermie strokes his abused face, pouting. “So what’s his name?”  
  
“Stan Filbrick Pines. Your father insisted on the second part.” Ma answers, rolling her eyes.  
  
Shermie winces internally. Unlike with him, Pa seems to already have very high expectations for his little brother. Shermie will have to make sure this little one will turn out alright despite their father’s meddling. No way he’ll let his dad turn his brother into a stoic copy of himself.  
  
Deciding to make a good first impression, Shermie stands up straight and takes the baby’s hand in his in a careful, but firm handshake.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Stan Pines! I’m Shermie, your older brother. I might not be good at punching and won’t be able to help you much with school, but I know how to have fun and will always be there when you need me, so please never hesitate to ask for my help, okay?”  
  
Feeling pleased with his impromptu speech, Shermie moves to let go of his brother's hand, but is met with a refusal to separate. Instead, the baby grasps Shermie’s finger, surprising him.

“Ma, Ma, look!” Shermie exclaims excitedly, waving his captured finger from side to side.  
  
“He must’ve understood you and wants to say hello back.”  
  
“You think so?” Shermie grins.  
  
Ma nods and smiles to herself. “Now, Shermie, before you go to sleep, why don’t you count your brother’s fingers for me?”  
  
A confused “What?” escapes him, but he obliges at his mother’s urging , feeling a bit foolish to do so. One, two, thre-  
  
“NO WAY! THIS IS SO COOL!” Shermie exclaims forgetting himself in the moment. His brother must be some kind of future superhero!

“Does the finger have any superpowers?”  
  
“Oh yes.” Ma answers mysteriously. Shermie is bouncing with excitement. So cool, so cool!  
  
“Well…” , she starts, dragging the word out. “Time for you to go to bed. Shoo shoo!”  
  
“What? No, no tell me!” Shermie whines, but is interrupted by his father screaming “QUIET!” from the other room.

Shermie flinches, though his mood isn’t dampened much. He kisses his mother goodnight and goes to sleep grinning like crazy. Being an older brother is going to be great!

***

The next couple of days are filled with much excitement and very little sleep. As punishment for staying up too late Pa makes Shermie work in the shop until he finds himself a job for the summer.  
  
_“You’re fourteen already, Sherman. Old enough to stop being useless and make us some money.”_

And when Shermie is home, he’s doing his best to help his mom around the house. Ma worries him. He doesn’t know much about babies or giving birth for that matter, but since she came back from the hospital she’s been acting off.  
  
“I’m fine, Shermie. Just a bit tired. You know that Stan doesn’t like letting us sleep at night.” Ma says every time he asks her about it and then changes the subject.  
  
There is some truth in her answer. Sleep is a luxury his little brother refuses to let them indulge in, but that doesn’t change his mother’s condition. Shermie knows she’s not alright. When she thinks no one is watching, Ma looks terribly distraught and he’s pretty sure he saw her crying over Stan’s crib just this morning. He tried to confront her about it, but she simply brushed him off with a joke and rushed off to the bathroom.  
  
That night Shermie lies awake for a long time, even though Stan is blessedly quiet for once. His mom refuses to tell him anything and asking his dad for help is out of the question.  
  
_“Your mother is fine. Women cry without reason all the time. You’re embarrassing me with your worrying. Are you a girl now, too?”_

There’s no one else Shermie can talk to. He’s not really that close with any of his school friends and he doubts they would understand even if he tried to explain.

His worries get periodically interrupted by shuffling and scratching from above the ceiling. Some rodent must’ve found its way up onto the roof and decided to team up with Stan in keeping them awake at night.  
  
Shermie groans and rolls on his side, pressing a pillow over his ears. He would give everything to have an older brother of his own right about now.

***

A shrill scream.  
  
Shermie startles awake. Ma, something is wrong!  
  
He stumbles out of bed and runs through the door nearly falling over his own two feet. His mom is trembling in front of the nursery, holding Stan protectively against her chest. She doesn’t notice him, her eyes fixated on something inside the room.  
  
“Caryn, stay back!” Pa yells, storming into the nursery, a table lamp in his hand. Shermie’s heart is pounding like crazy and in all his confusion he nearly misses his mom collapsing, but fortunately he manages to support her just in time to prevent any serious injuries as she falls to the floor, her legs too weak to support herself.

  
Inside the nursery Pa swings the lamp at the creature hovering on top of Stan’s crib. It’s too dark to make out any details, except for two big glowing eyes staring straight at his baby brother. Shermie can only stare in awe as the thing opens what appear to be a set of huge batlike wings and gets ready to charge.  
  
It’s motion, however, is interrupted by his father’s attack and the creature catapulted out of the open window.  
  
Ma’s pleas of “No, Filbrick, please! Don’t hurt him!” fall on deaf ears as the sound of wailing and stone crashing into stone echos through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure the little Gargoyle is fine.  
> ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
>   
> [My Tumblr](https://shanklin.tumblr.com/)


	3. Doctor Thunderman’s Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shermie to the rescue!

“Damn it!” Shermie’s father curses and hurries to the window trying to find the creature.  
  
“What was that?” Shermie asks, but is drowned out by his brother’s cries. The poor baby must be having an awful time in between all the screaming, the fighting and Ma collapsing on the floor. And yet, Shermie is a bit envious of the baby’s ability to make its displeasure known without getting into trouble for it. It would be nice to join Stan in crying until everything is fixed again. Babies sure have it easy.  
  
“Boy, get outside and find that thing!” His father orders and Shermie stiffens. How is he supposed to find and deal with an honest to god monster?  
  
“You told me it wasn’t real! How could you do that to me?” Ma interjects, tightening her hold on Stan.  
  
“What? You suddenly developed a problem with lying, woman?”

Ma gets back up on her feet and faces Pa. She still looks faint but her legs are standing firm as anger flashes through her eyes.

“This is different! What have you done to my baby?”  
  
Pa’s scowling face flushes and he hits the dangling door hard with his fist. The impact makes Shermie jump and the baby’s wails grow more desperate, tears forming in its eyes.  
  
“Are you completely mad? That monster is not a baby!”  
  
Nothing they say makes sense anymore and Shermie is at a loss what to do or think.  
  
“Wha-What’s going on? What was that thing?” He finally blurts out, but it was the wrong thing to say. His father grabs him by the collar and throws him into the direction of the front door shouting “I told you to get out and find it!” into his face.  
  
Shermie quickly grabs his shoes and jacket and escapes outside not bothering to put them on until the door is already firmly shut behind him. His parents continue the fight, but Shermie holds his ears closed and sniffles.  
  
Why does it always end up like this? He pulls his jacket tightly around himself and walks cautiously into the night looking for some kind of monster it seems. How is Shermie supposed to capture an unknown creature all by himself, when even Pa failed to do so.  
  
A bitter laugh escapes him. It’s just another way to toughen him up. That’s how Pa would justify it. Shermie is so sick of it all. Just once he wants to know what it’s like to live in a normal family where everyone loves each other and no one needs to be afraid to speak up. He was so happy to finally get a sibling, a little brother, but maybe he shouldn’t have been. His parents made a bad decision in having another child and now poor Stan will be forced to grow up with Pa as his guardian as well. It’s not an easy fate to live through.  
  
A low whimpering from the corner near the trashcans breaks Shermie out of his musings. He gulps heavily and whispers “Please don’t hurt me.” under his breath as he approaches the sound. His stomach twists at what he sees.  
  
There in the flickering light of a raddled street lamp lies the broken body of a small grayish creature made out of stone. It’s helplessly twitching on the dirty floor and moves one singlel wing up and down in an attempt to fly off. The other wing is scattered into pieces around the creature and its left arm appears to have been severed during the fall as well.  
  
Shermie slides to his knees, all previous fright forgotten, and tries to act as non threatening as possible.  
  
“Hey, little guy. Don’t be scared. I’ll help you.” He whispers softly and moves closer, but his reassurances show no effect as the creature curls in on itself and covers its small body with the one functional wing.  
  
A car drives by and Shermie is reminded that his father could follow him outside any moment to go monster hunting himself. Shermie needs a plan fast. Telling his father he found the creature is not an option and neither is leaving it here for someone else to find. Who knows what they would do to it.  
  
Shermie collects all the broken stone parts he can find and hides them inside the pockets of his pants. Then, he takes off his jacket and scoops the creature up as gently as he can, but not gently enough it seems. It’s clearly frightened and lets out small shrieks as it flails around. The stony wing hits him hard on the side of his head and Shermie has to forcefully stop its movement by wrapping it up in his jacket like a little kitten.  
  
He never once stops mumbling apologies during their scuffle. The poor thing did nothing to deserve this.  
  
With all of its limbs constrained, Shermie finally gets a proper look at its face and realises with horror that almost half of it is missing. It must’ve happened during the fall. Not half an hour ago, Shermie clearly saw two glowing eyes from his brother's bedroom. Now there's only one staring at him with an ever dimming glow.

Shermie tries to look for the missing eye, hoping he can somehow fix it up if he just finds it, but there's no sign of a blue gemstone-like orb anywhere. It’s too dark. He’ll have to look for it again in the morning.  
  
“I need to sneak you inside, little guy. So you have to keep absolutely quiet, okay?”  
  
The stone creature responds by raising the volume of its cries.  
  
“No no no!” Shermie places his hand around its fragmented mouth in an attempt to drown out the noise and gets promptly bitten. He winces and screams silently under his breath, but the resulting silence from the creature is welcome addition. Shermie can work with this.  
  
He makes the creature bite down on his forearm and hides its head under the protruding hood of his jacket. With some luck he can make it look like he's simply carrying the jacket under his arm. Not the best concealment, but he’s desperate and out of ideas.  
  
In his mind he can already hear his father complaining about how long it took him to find some fallen rock on the pavement. His time is surely running out. He can’t any longer. With an exclamation of “Ew, monster slobber!”, he wipes the mud-like spit, the creature left on his hand, away and walks up the stairs of their apartment.  
  
Cold sweat runs down his neck and the only thing holding him together is the hurtful gnawing on his arm, surprisingly enough. He has to protect this little creature even if it means standing up to bullies and his father. That’s what big brothers are supposed to do, right?  
  
He opens the door and before he knows it his father is already in front of him silently questioning where the creature is. His mother is nowhere in sight. 

Shermie presses the bundle more closely to his side and holds out a couple of wing fragments for his father to inspect.  
  
“I-I’m sorry. This was all I could find. It was too dark outside to-”  
  
“Can’t you do anything right, boy?” Pa barks out, interrupting Shermie’s lie and shoves him out of the way to go and look for the monster himself.  
  
Shermie uses the opportunity to escape to his room, locking the door behind him and sinks to the floor exhausted, his heart beating like crazy.  
  
They’re safe, for now.

***

After Shermie forces himself to calm down, he unwraps the bundle and looks at the little gnawer attached to his arm. Chewing on something seemed to have calmed the creature down and under the light of his desk lamp Shermie notices a lack of teeth in the small cracked up mouth, reminding him of his baby brother. In fact its whole stature, apart from the wings and horns, looks strikingly similar to that of a human baby.  
  
“So does your kind always look like this or are you actually just a baby rock?” Shermie muses, not expecting an answer.  
  
He slowly removes the creature from his arm and offers the thumb part of a barely used boxing glove up instead. It happily accepts and starts chewing again. Shermie uses the opportunity to clean his arm off the muddy slobber and come up with what to do next.  
  
How do you even start fixing a living rock? The heros in his comic books always have a convenient superpower or genius scientist at hand to save the day. And the only things Shermie has are a bunch of half baked plans and a secret box of crafting supplies.  
  
He considers this for a moment and gently moves to touch the place where the little guy’s arm broke off. The stumb twitches, but the creature doesn’t show any sign of pain or stark discomfort. Shermie nods. Good. At least it won't hurt the creature then.  
  
Shermie moves to his bed and pulls out the box with the craft supplies and the half dry clay figure from underneath.  
  
He places the figure of his made up superhero on the floor and salutes him.  
  
“I’m sorry Doctor Thunderman, but your expertise is needed. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten!” Shermie promises solemnly and pours a bit of water over the clay hoping it’s enough to turn it into something more moldable again.  
  
The result is not perfect, but still workable and Doctor Thunderman is no more. In its stead there is a lump of clay, a bit too wet in some parts, a little too clumpy in others, but he has worked with far worse material before.  
  
Shermie grins and cracks his knuckles. Now for the fun part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://shanklin.tumblr.com/)


	4. Don’t Forget To Eat Your Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shermie has no idea what he's doing, but that won't stop him.

Shermie starts with the arm. It seems the easiest part to fix and he supposes he could just try gluing it together somehow. He takes the detached limp and inspects it for any other damage besides the obvious ‘not being attached to the body’ problem.   
  
The arm appears to be mostly intact except for a couple of cracks and missing edges. It’s nothing Shermie can’t fill up with a bit of clay. He gets to work smoothing out the arm and in his concentration he fails to notice that the little creature has stopped biting on the glove and is slowly limping towards Shermie, grabbing for the limp.   
  
A rough crackling noise finally causes Shermie to look up. He’s barely able to pull the arm away before the creature bites down.   
  
“Nononono, limbs are not for eating. No eating!” He says in a frantic whisper. The creature tilts its head and lets out a small whine as it tries to grab for the limb again.   
  
Shermie wants to refuse, but rethinks his previous statement. It’s not like he has a proper idea how to deal with a living rock creature. Maybe he should trust the little guy’s instincts. 

Oh what the hell, why not?   
  
Shermie takes the wing parts he collected and holds them out for the creature to take. His offering is accepted and the creature promptly shoves the parts into its mouth, chews and swallows.   
  
“Tasted good?” Shermie chuckles nervously. This situation is getting more bizarre by the minute.   
  
The creature makes something that sounds almost like a burp in response. Shermie takes it as a yes. So rock things like eating themselves. Good to know.   
  
Eating seems to have calmed the creature down a little. It sits down and observes Shermie’s handywork with its single eye wide open. It would be almost cute if half of its face wasn’t missing and reminding Shermie of his father’s actions.   


“Okay, so I need you to hold still now and if you’re good I’ll give you the rest of your wing. Deal?”   
  
Shermie holds out the remaining parts and the creature tries to grab them again. Seeing an opening, he catches the creature in one arm to hold it still. With the other arm he takes some clay and sticks the limb back on the body.   
  
The moment the arm touches the place it detached from, the creature stills and Shermie holds his breath.   
  
“Yes!” 

The fingers twitch. It works! Shermie would’ve cheered louder if he wasn’t so afraid his father might hear. 

He lets go of the creature to start fixing the face next and immediately regrets it. The arm slides off and falls down on his desk. Damn it. How stupid of him to forget that the clay still needs to dry up.   
  
The creature whines at the loss of its arm and grabs for the wing parts again. Shermie sighs and hands them over.   
  
“Sorry, I should’ve just tried to use some glue instead.”   
  
Oblivious to Shermie’s plight, the creature munches away on its rocks and Shermie presses the arm back onto the body unenthusiastically. 

“This might take a while. If it works at all that is.”   
  
Observing the little guy more closely it becomes apparent that he has difficulties chewing up his rocks. Maybe Shermie should work on the face first and then buy some glue to fix the arm tomorrow. 

But would clay even hold? The material is no solid rock and if this creature eats rocks, then wouldn’t the clay just break apart again the first time it tries to chew with its new mouth?

The creature finishes its meal, but the sounds of rock grinding against itself doesn’t stop. 

“Woah!”

Shermie watches in astonishment as a thin layer of stone grows over the parts he fixed with clay.   
  
This time around the arm stays in place when Shermie lets go and he can’t stop himself from grinning. This makes everything so much easier.

Freshly motivated, Shermie gets back to work and starts fixing the creature's face. He’s not sure what the creature looked like before his fall, so he simply copies the mostly intact half of the face and tries to form it into something as symmetrical as possible. The closer he gets to finishing shaping the face the more familiar looking it becomes.   
  
“You look a lot like my little brother, you know?”   
  
Maybe that’s the reason why he felt so protective the moment he saw the little guy. Or maybe all babies just simply look the same.   
  
Luckily the creature seems to enjoy Shermie’s gentle prodding and doesn’t put up much of a fuss. After a while, it stills completely and closes its eye. 

Oh. It’s falling asleep.

Shermie understands. Fighting with his dad is always exhausting and that’s without getting smacked out of a window with a table lamp.   
  
Shermie tries to finish up quickly, not wanting to disturb its sleep any more than he has to. Now all that's left is the empty eye socket. Shermie considers it for a moment and decides to use a glass marble as a substitute until he finds the lost gemstone. Maybe it can work as an eye as well? Just in case he picks out the best blue marble he owns and hopes for the best.

There. It’s finished.   
  
Shermie watches in fascination as a layer of stone starts to grow over the face as well, though it seems much thinner and more fragile than before. He will most likely have to look for some rocks to feed the creature tomorrow. If his assumptions are correct that should fix the problem. More stone eaten equals more stone growing back or something, right?   
  
The creature closes his new eye as well and stops moving as if a spell has ended. If anyone were to enter now they would simply see a big rock on Shermie’s desk and assume it's nothing but a little statue carved out of stone.   
  
“Sleep well and don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” Shermie whispers and carries the creature to his bed, placing it on a pillow between him and the wall. Now, someone who enters his room will have to go through him first before they can reach his little friend.   
  
He turns off the lights and falls asleep.

  
***

Something growls. A scream. There’s no time to think. The pounding on his door shocks Shermie awake and in a manner of seconds he’s up, hiding the little guy in his closet and opening the door to get scolded for locking it in the first place. His father confiscates the key to his room and orders him to go and help Ma with breakfast. 

Shermie’s head is spinning. He hasn’t even woken up properly yet, let alone processed that last night really happened. This is all happening too fast. 

He enters the kitchen dazed. Ma is too busy with his little brother to do much of anything else and Shermie murmurs a tired “Good morning” before setting the table. It proves to be a difficult task as his hands suddenly start to shake with the realisation of how close he has come to being discovered already. 

Turns out hiding a whole living baby monster from his father is way more stressful than doing the same with a box of crafting supplies. If it hadn’t been for his little brother’s perfectly timed screams, Pa would’ve surely heard the creature growling in fear when he came to wake Shermie up. And now the door to his room isn’t even locked. Damn it. He promised to protect the little guy, but every time he solves one problem two more appear.   
  
The baby finally stops crying and they sit down to eat. 

His parents behave like they normally do after a fight. That is to say his father ignores them like usual and eats his food in stoic silence and his mother talks to Shermie as if nothing at all happened last night.   
  
And just like always Shermie hates it, but has no choice but to play along. He wants nothing more than to demand an answer from his parents about where the creature came from and what the hell is happening, but he knows when to stay quiet. He’d just be in trouble with his father for asking questions instead of getting some answers.   
  
No. Demanding answers is not an option. Shermie has to be patient and wait for Pa to leave so he can ask his mom. There's a good chance she won’t give him proper answers either, but at least he won’t get reprimanded for asking. Maybe she’ll even be willing to help him keep the creature safe. She tried to stop Pa from hurting it after all. Then again, she also seemed frightened of the creature last night, so Shermie should be careful who to trust until he’s absolutely sure.   
  
At least he has little Stan on his side, he muses and smiles to himself. It would be nice if the baby could always just scream their ears off whenever Shermie needs a distraction away from the creature.   
  
“Boy,” Pa says and Shermie stops smiling immediately. “You’re off shop duty for today. Finish up and go find me that damn monster!”   
  
“”Yes, sir!”   
  
Shermie stuffs the last pieces of breakfast into his mouth and runs off into his room, finding the creature already out of the closet and roaming about.

The moment it sees Shermie its eyes light up and it holds out its arms. Shermie cradles it into his arms.   
  
“Guess what little guy, we’re going on an adventure!”   
  
The creature coos.   
  
“You like that, huh?” Shermie smiles and hides the creature inside the biggest backpack he can find.

“Stay as still as you can, okay?” He says, zips the bag closed and without wasting anymore time runs out of the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't think too much about Stan eating parts of himself or I'll have use the "autocannibalism" tag. XD
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://shanklin.tumblr.com/)


	5. The Glass Shard Beach Public Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shermie really shouldn't be keeping a baby gargoyle in his backpack like this, but at least he knows how to use a book correctly.

The moment the pawn shop is out of sight, Shermie stops running and sighs in relief. Now he has a whole day to come up with a plan of what to do next.

Something hard gives him a sharp jab on his spine making him jump. Shermie hides in a street corner and opens his backpack slightly. A single glowing eye stares back at him. 

The poor thing. It looks like the marble Shermie used to replace the lost eye with only works for aesthetic purposes. Shermie should really go back and look for the real eye, but if his father sees him still lurking around the house things might get even worse. He bites down hard on his lip and decides against going back.   
  
“Sorry, I can’t let you out yet. I promise I’ll make it up to you, but first we need to go to the second scariest place in the whole of Glass Shard Beach. The Library.”

The scariest place of course being Pa’s workshop Shermie has been forbidden to enter since he can remember.   
  
The Glass Shard Public Library is located right at the outskirts of town next to the various lead paint factories pumping their waste into the ocean and everyone with just a hint of common sense stays clear of the building.   
  
Smog from the factories is perpetually surrounding the rundown stone building and if any plants ever tried to grow near it they have long since perished.   
  
The moment Shermie sets a foot on the property and passes the library sign, it’s as if time suddenly stands still. All sounds from the streets and the factories fade away and not even the wind dares to enter.   
  
Near the roof a crow caws and settles down on some weathered down and broken stone formations protruding from the side of the building. It must’ve once been a beautiful building, but through years of pollution and neglect it became a perfect candidate for a prop in a horror movie, almost cliche in its appearance.

Shermie gulps and clutches the backpack closer to his body. He took it off to better comfort the creature during their travel, but now he’s the one who uses the little guy's presence as a safety blanket. How glad he is that he didn’t have to come here all on his own. Usually, whenever he’s forced to enter the building for schoolwork, he’s accompanied by a couple of schoolmates and they’re in and out as fast as they can. However this time he isn’t sure how long it’ll take to find what he needs, so he needs every bit of courage he can muster to go through with this.   
  
The library really gives him the creeps. He just knows there's something foul and rotten hidden inside, besides the old librarian of course.   
  
The door creaks open and Shermie is hit with a shower of dust falling from the ceiling and making him cough.   
  
“H-Hello? Anyone there?”   


The question echos through the empty entrance hall. Nothing but a flicker of the ugly yellow light bulbs that barely provide any light replies. Looks like he’s safe.

The creature whines and protests again. Shermie hushes it.   
  
“It won’t be long now. Just stay quiet for a little longer.”   
  
He tiptoes through the entrance hall, reluctant to lower his guard, and reaches for the door handle to open the way to the actual library part, when his arm is suddenly grabbed and pulled away.

Shermie shakes his wrist free and stumbles back in shock. The figure of the old librarian hovers above him. She’s a creepy witch of a woman with thin greasy hair and sunken eyes.   
  
“I- I’m just looking for some books.” 

Shermie is just stating the obvious, but the woman makes him feel like he's protruding on her personal space. She scowls and lifts one boney finger up to points at something behind him. He won't fall for that. No way he’s taking his eyes off the unsettling woman for even a second. 

It was the wrong decision. The woman takes one step closer to Shermie, who is backed against a wall, and grabs his face, forcing him to turn around.   
  
“Read the signs, you brat.”    
  
A pungent vinegar like smell hits Shermie as she croaks out the words and he has to stop himself from puking. This was a bad idea. 

He should just run, but instead he’s frozen in place looking at the sign with various crossed out forbidden things on it. No food and drinks, no talking and no bags.   
  
“I can’t have you troublemakers steal my precious books. Put your bag in one of the lockers, before you enter.” She snarls and nods in the direction of some rusted and unsafe looking lockers. 

_ Of course. _ Shermie feels stupid for forgetting the rules of this place.

“Yes, right away, ma’am. Sorry.”   
  
The librarian lets out a curse under her breath and sits down behind her wooden desk, giving Shermie an opportunity to put some space between them.   
  
He places the bag with the precious cargo inside the cleanest looking compartment and whispers some apologies to the creature when the woman isn’t looking. He feels awful locking it up and leaving it without protection near the creepy woman and promises he’ll be quick.

There’s no time to lose. Any minute now the creature could decide it has enough of sitting around in a bag and could escape. As soon as the old hag is out of sight, Shermie dashes through the empty library in search of a book that could help him with the creature. There must be at least one book about fantastical creatures somewhere around here.   
  
Shermie considers looking in the nonfiction biology section first, since the creature is real after all and currently living in his backpack, but what kind of scientist would seriously study and write about the paranormal? They’d be laughed at for sure or their work would land in the fantasy sections..   
  
Shermie rushes through rows upon rows of fictional works, but none of the books are even close to what he’s looking for. He stops to look around and catch his breath. For a public library with practically no government funding or visitors it sure is much bigger than you would expect from its rotting exterior.   
  
“No running in the library!” The librarian's voice zishes into his ear much too close to comfort, making Shermie jump a foot up into the air. Shermie swirls around ready to defend himself in case she tries to touch him again.   
  
“What’re you looking for so urgently, boy?”   
  
“A book about supernatural creatures or monsters or something. I’m ehm trying to write a story?”   
  
Shermie wants nothing less than to ask the woman for help, but this is the quickest way to find what he needs and escape this place. The woman looks entirely unimpressed with his explaination and Shermie feels someone foolish to have given it at all, but without another comment she orders him to follow and guides them through rows of dustier and dustier bookshelves to the very back of the library.   
  
Shermie wishes he’d bought a flashlight. The corridor he was led to is small and almost completely dark. The light from the dirtied up windows near the ceiling refuses to enter the section and the nearest electrical light source is a sad dimly glowing lightbulb two rows behind them.   
  
Shermie waits for the librarian to go on, but she stopped moving and with dread he realises she’s watching him like a predator would their next meal.   
  
Shermie backs away, but the woman is quicker, grabs his face again and squeezes down too hard to be anywhere near friendly.    
  
“You’re the pawn shop owner’s son, aren’t you?”   
  
_ She knows his father. _ Things never turn out well for Shermie when his father gets involved.   
  
“Y-yes.” He stutters out and instantly regrets not lying. The hag’s eyes light up and she gives him a nasty smile.

“And how is your mother. Did her pregnancy go well?”   
  
Memories of his mother acting off and secretly crying over his brother’s crib enter his mind and he squeaks out a high-pitched “She’s fine.”   
  
This causes the librarian to smile even wider, displaying all of her few remaining yellow brownish teeth and giving him another dose of that disgusting vinegar like smell.   
  
“The book you’re looking for is somewhere around here. Look for it yourself.” She says and finally lets him go, disappearing into the direction of the entrance hall. Shermie shudders and needs a moment to gather his wit’s. He’s never ever coming back here after this.   
  
The search for the book he needs is difficult. It’s too dark to see most book titles and he’s constantly on edge looking over his shoulder scared the librarian might’ve returned. Finally, after what feels like hours but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, he finds something useful right at the very end of the corridor. A book about various myths and legends that includes enough descriptions of monsters that Shermie is hopeful he might find a clue about his little friend in there.    
  
He turns to leave, but his eyes catch a glimpse of a narrow wooden door in between two ramshackle book shelves. The door sticks out from its surroundings, looking far better maintained than any other part of the library. Shermie carefully runs his fingers over the wood. No dust at all. It must be used pretty frequently.   
  
Shermie knows he should just leave, but his curiosity takes over and he quickly checks his surroundings before reaching for the door handle. The moment his hand touches the metal a terrified screech echos through the library hall.   
  
_ The creature! _

All need to explore forgotten, Shermie sprints through the library chastising himself for taking so long and endangering his little friend. He rams the door to the entrance hall open, almost breaking it in the process and is met with the sight of the librarian holding his little friend up by one leg and grinning menacingly, a mad glint in her eyes.   
  
His friend has been through enough already!   
  
The hag turns to face Shermie and Shermie raises the book in his hands up and charges at her.

“Let my friend go, you witch!” He screams and smashes the book over her head before she can react, causing her to let go of the creature and collapse onto the floor holding her head.   
  
Shermie pays her no mind, stuffs the book into his backpack lying on the floor and gathers the creature into his arms, running as fast as he can away from the library.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shermie Pines, assaulting old women since nineteen fifty-something.  
> Apologies to any librarians reading this. Your profession is a noble one and didn’t deserve to be slandered like this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [My GF Tumblr Sidebloob](https://shanklin.tumblr.com/)


End file.
